Isolde pops the top of my hand, and I look up in shock.
“Stop fiddling with the utensils! It is unbecoming and makes you look nervous. And what does that mean? ‘Of course you aren’t’,” she mimics.
I’m unable to hold my tongue after having my hand popped like a petulant youngling. “I just don’t see much importance in this role. One of the many royal servants could help coordinate the events. Where my forks are placed has no relevance on those of this world. This spoon being marginally smaller than the last won’t change that those at the royal galas are going to eat extravagantly while the rest of the Fae worry about the diminishing crops. Why am I even here?”
She gives two slow blinks at my outburst before responding. “You are here because you are the Daughter of Gaia, the Princess of Castara, which is a huge honor and responsibility.”
I swallow thickly at her alarming calm. “Oh yes, royal event planner. How rewarding and important.”
Her eyes blaze.
“This is pointless.” I gesture towards the place setting, but I think she realizes I’m talking about more than silverware. “I’m not the chosen one. Nova was! And if the Goddess didn’t deem it all that important to protect her, then she must not believe it’s all that important for there to be a queen. So again, why am I here?”
“The Goddess does not give us a choice in this. We all have to accept our role,” she bites out, her calm slipping. She takes a slow breath. “Whether we want it or not.”
I search her face at the potential confession.
In an instant the fire relights in her eyes. “There is importance in our role, Princess.” Her voice resumes its unnerving calm. “We are here to support the king. While you may only see frivolous events, you and I are in a unique positionthat other queens have not been in. With the energy levels depleting, we have to keep the spirits of the Fae up. Events are a way to keep life moving as normal, despite the fear that is building. It distracts everyone and shows them that we believe there is no reason to fear. If the events and normal functions of the kingdom stopped, they would panic. We instill normalcy to the world. Stability.”
She talks like these events are for all of the Fae. Most are for only the Elite. But she’s right—they would panic if their fancy parties were stopped.Maybe a little panic would be good.
I fight my building frustration. “And what is being done to stop the storms?”
She huffs out an even deeper sigh, like this is the most asinine question I could have asked. “I’m not part of those discussions. Now, back to the lesson.”
She begins listing off all the different occasions where I’ll have to get dressed up and lie to the Fae that all is okay.
Royal event planner. Yeah, I’ll pass.
Chapter
Eleven
NISSA
Two days later, I’m walking back to my room from the kitchens, where I’ve been trying to casually ask questions—I hope it seemed casual.
It is one of the rare days I have off from Isolde’s lessons and I had planned to use the time to find some answers. In a castle filled with fae who love to spread everyone else’s stories, I’m shocked at how little is known about Nova’s death. Or at least, how little is being shared with me.
In the past, no one would have thought twice about spilling all the castle secrets to me. But going from the forgotten sister to the new Princess is exhausting. The Fae fawn over me and the staff act like I’m a Vaylor now, too scared to talk to me. My spirit feels like the broken trees in Terrania, leaving a dull ache settling in my chest.
The time is ticking down.What will I do if I don’t figure out what happened before the Coronation?
The hallway opens up and I’m surrounded by voices as I make my way across the Grand Entryway. With my head down, I sigh when I hear my name rise above the steady murmur of the room. Letting my hair fall around my face, my feet quicken tomake it across the large space. I’m too defeated to put on a fake smile right now.
“Nissa,” a voice breaks through over the others and my magic responds, urging me to slow down. I search the room but I already know who I’m looking for. My magic only reacts this way to one fae,to one male.
Cillian is striding towards me, Niko following close behind. Each step closer sends a thrill through me. I’m still not used to his bright eyes being back on me. A high that I had come to love and then missed every year after it was pulled from me.
Niko still wears his Guardian attire but Cillian is dressed more casually. His seafoam green shirt grips his biceps and the tapered dark navy pants that are tucked into a pair of worn grey leather boots. A smile threatens the corners of my mouth, as I watch them approach.
“You look…” I trail off letting my eyes wander up and down his toned body. I’ve had a hard time getting him out of my head over the last few days. Feeling the heat of his body so close to mine in the hall outside of his office, his thumb on my lip... My cheeks warm as it all rushes back again. The memories have left an imprint on my magic. Memories thatmayhave transitioned into fantasies that have taken root in my dreams over the last few nights.
He clears his throat and my cheeks tint pink as he observes me with a heated stare as I blatantly admire his body. My eyes jump to Niko, who is watching us with guarded curiosity.
“Not spending the day with my Mother?” Cillian asks, bringing my attention back to him.
“No, I have the day off. Thankfully,” I respond, the latter under my breath, causing the smirk he wore to transform to a full on entertained smile.
